


The Morning After

by kazoobard



Category: Mythic Quest
Genre: M/M, chubby david rise, trans brad implied, trans david implied, uhh references to sex, uhh yeah idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27627575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazoobard/pseuds/kazoobard
Summary: Brad and David have to talk about their feelings.
Relationships: David Brittlesbee/Brad Bakshi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> this is for you, braddavid people on twitter

“Hey, Brad?”

“Mm?”

“You gotta get up, buddy, okay?”

“Nooo.”

David laughs a little and reaches up to pet Brad’s hair. Brad hums at the sensation, his arms tightening around David’s waist.

“David,” Brad whines. “Can we stay here today?”

“It’s Sunday.”

Brad grunts, his eyes peeking open to look at David. “Then why do I have to get up?”

“I need to piss.”

Brad rolls his eyes and detangles himself from David. “Fine. I’ll just be here, cold and alone.”

“Drama queen.” David rolls out of bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he makes his way to the bathroom. 

He stays there too long. He doesn’t want to leave the bathroom. If he doesn’t leave, he doesn’t have to talk to Brad. The cuddliness will wear off as he wakes up, and they’ll have to confront what they did and where that leaves them.

Not that David wants to forget what they did. He’d give anything to see Brad kneeling at the edge of the bed again, pulling him closer by his thighs, grinning and teasing him–

No. No. He needs to focus. He can’t spend all day staring at himself in the mirror and thinking about last night. He needs to talk to Brad.

Speaking of Brad, he’s no longer in bed. David wanders out into the kitchen, where he sees him standing at the counter, brewing a pot of coffee as if this were his own house. He’s wearing David’s pajama pants and his hair is mussed up and God, David really wants to do anything but talk to him.

“Hey there, Brittlesbee.”

David grunts in acknowledgement and sits at the kitchen table, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. There’s a small shuffling sound and David moves his hands to see Brad standing above him, holding a cup of coffee. He accepts it wordlessly and takes a sip, avoiding eye contact.

“So I guess you’ll wanna talk about what happened.”

David glances up and is surprised to see that Brad almost looks nervous. “Uh... yeah, kinda.”

Brad scratches over one of his chest scars and sighs, leaning back against the table. “So, what? You regret it? Don’t wanna see me again? Want me to take off your pants and get the hell out of your apartment?”

“Why would I want that?”

Brad looks at him like he’s stupid. “Because you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” David says, raising his eyebrows. “We had sex.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Wh– You woke up in my arms!”

Brad is stubborn. “Lapse in judgement.”

David sighs, leaning back in his chair. He watches Brad’s eyes flit over him. “I don’t hate you. And I don’t regret having sex with you. But I think we should discuss... what this means for us. What we do next.”

Brad is silent. David decides to prod him more.

“If you want, we can never talk about this again.”

“Fine.” Brad is staring straight ahead, his jaw set.

“But I want to make you breakfast. And I want to take you on a real date.”

Brad’s face twitches almost imperceptibly. David sets his mug down and stands, resting his hands on Brad’s hips, pressing their foreheads together. He takes a shaky breath, but doesn’t move away.

“You okay?” David murmurs.

Brad nods a little, jostling David and making him laugh. Brad reaches up slowly, and wraps his arms tentatively around David. Testing the waters. He waits patiently and eventually, he feels Brad’s grip tighten.

They’re quiet for a while, just breathing together. David closes his eyes and moves his head so that he can rest his chin on Brad’s shoulder.

“You really want to see me again?”

David almost doesn’t realize that Brad had spoken, it was so quiet. He pulls away a little, looking him square in the face. “Yeah, I do. Is that okay with you?”

Brad stares at the ground, blinking fast. He glances up and he looks so pitiful that David almost laughs.

But he doesn’t, because Brad’s hands are moving, and David is frozen under his touch. They wind back toward David’s front, fingers brushing his stretch marks, palms warm against his stomach, his chest, his cheeks. Brad is holding his face.

Brad Bakshi is holding his face.

Brad leans in and David’s eyes flutter shut at the contact, letting his mouth fall open against Brad’s lips. David moans a little bit, and Brad pulls back, smirking. “Do you wanna go back to bed?”

David grins sheepishly. “I’m actually really hungry. Breakfast first?”

“Fine, but I’m not cooking.”

David can’t stop smiling. “Works for me.”

“I want eggs.”

“Okay.”

“And then sex again.”

“Pick one, eggs or sex.”

“Are you serious?”

David grins wider, and Brad hits his arm. “That’s not funny.”

“I think it’s funny.”

“Dick.”

“We left it on the dresser.”

Brad snorts out a laugh, loud and unexpected. He clamps his hands to his mouth, which makes David start to laugh, and they’re laughing, and kissing, and smiling too big to kiss anymore.

“Make me some damn eggs.”

It’s meant to be a command, but Brad is smiling too wide for it to have any effect. David kisses his forehead. He’ll make the eggs anyway. He’ll do anything Brad asks.

Oh, shit.

Brad Bakshi owns him.


End file.
